


Week Three - Forgiveness

by FriendlyCybird



Series: Forduary 2019 [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (Ford has a beer that's it), Danger, Discussion of self-sacrifice, Gen, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 21:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyCybird/pseuds/FriendlyCybird
Summary: Mabel threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.  Ford returned the embrace, perhaps, he realized a moment into it, just as eagerly.  His breath was coming a little too quick, his hands fighting not to tremble as he tried desperately not to think of just how close that had been.  He hoped, even as he tried not to dwell on it as he’d said, that he’d seen some sort of different marking or some other clue that this particular creature wasn’t venomous. That he’d somehow subconsciously known…That his moments hesitation hadn’t been pure selfishness.





	Week Three - Forgiveness

In the end, there was nothing about the choice that wasn’t devastatingly simple. He’d made it with full awareness of the consequences, and he knew he would do it again if ever called upon to. The fact that he was alive to do it again though came as something of a...mild shock. 

“There!” Mabel declared, patting the new bandage wrapped around his hand. “All better.” Then she bunched up the antiseptic wipes she’d used up and stuffed them into the sandwich bag meant to keep the contaminated items separate from the sterile ones while they didn’t have access to a trash receptacle. Only after tucking the little baggie into one corner of the first aid kit, shutting it and snapping the clasps of it closed did Mabel gasp “Wait!” and set the kit aside. Ford had just enough time to give her a surprised look before she took his hand again and kissed it over the bandage. “ _Now_ it’s all better!” 

Ford chuckled. “Thank you, Mabel.”

She shook her head emphatically. “Thank YOU, Grunkle Ford!” Then she shuddered “What even was that thing?” 

“A scegrit.” Ford answered. Then he elaborated “An arthropod of the arachnida class. Not unlike a scorpion with the more elongated body, but without the tail. Highly venomous though.” he paused and then commented, a little distantly “I had no idea they were native to this dimension.” 

“Venomous?” Mabel echoed, eyes going wide. “Should we get you to the hospital?” 

Ford shook his head. “Either the variety in this dimension lacks the venom sac of the ones I’ve previously encountered, or else I developed an immunity somewhere along the way. I’ll run a blood test when I get back to my lab to be sure, but without one or the other I’d already be dead.” 

“B...but…” Mabel protested softly. “You just...reached right past it…” 

Ford nodded, but there was a knot in his stomach. “You’re hardly one to focus too much on what’s already past, I’d appreciate if you didn’t start now.” his tone was perhaps sharper than he meant it to be. He hoped it was that causing Mabel’s eyes to well up with tears. “Now, I didn’t mean to be sharp with you, Mabel. I’d just rather not dwell on what might have been when we both came through the experience largely unscathed.” 

Mabel threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Ford returned the embrace, perhaps, he realized a moment into it, just as eagerly. His breath was coming a little too quick, his hands fighting not to tremble as he tried desperately not to think of just how close that had been. He hoped, even as he tried not to dwell on it as he’d said, that he’d seen some sort of different marking or some other clue that this particular creature wasn’t venomous. That he’d somehow subconsciously known…

That his moments hesitation hadn’t been pure selfishness. 

Mabel held his uninjured hand on the hike back home. They talked about other, inconsequential things. By the time they were approaching the back porch, their dialogue had devolved into a spirited debate as to the merits of jellybeans vs gummy koalas. Any other time and Ford would have been satisfied to agree to disagree. For the moment he was pleased with the diversion. 

“There’s only one way to settle this!” Mabel declared as they reached the bottom step. “Extensive taste-testing!” her hands went to her hips and she stomped her foot for emphasis. 

Ford barely suppressed the grin threatening to spread across his face. “Agreed.” 

He followed Mabel’s gaze to the side, where Stan and Soos were sitting, each with an open cola. Stan was, of course, in his underthings. Soos in...most of his suit. The tie was loosened and jacket slung over the arm of the couch. “Grunkle Stan, Soos.” Mabel greeted with an over-the-top impression of cloying sweetness. “Care to join us for our flavor experiments?” 

“And texture.” Ford put in. “Mabel my entire argument has been about the texture, please don’t ignore that.” 

“Flavor and texture experiments.” Mabel corrected, and Ford allowed a satisfied nod. 

Soos grabbed for his jacket with an enthusiastic “Oh boy, do I!” before getting to his feet and starting into the house. Mabel thundered up the steps to follow. 

Stan made no effort to move, and Ford opted instead to wander over to the seat Soos had vacated and sit down beside his brother for a moment. Only a moment. He sank into the comfortable seat with a groan, followed by a heavy sigh as he dropped his head against the back of the couch. He caught a glimpse of his brother passing him a beverage, which he took and opened without looking. It was only as he was bringing it to his lips that he realized. 

“Beer?” he questioned. 

Stan shrugged. “Well you’re not gonna tell me what’s wrong sober, are ya?” 

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?” Stan just looked at him, and Ford grew defensive. “Mabel and I had a lovely hike. We had a rare daytime sighting of a couple scampfires and encountered a creature I hadn’t even known existed in this dimension.” He said it smoothly. All of it was true, there was no reason to feel guilt. Not about what he’d said at any rate. Stan continued just looking at him, expression knowing. Ford chugged half the can and dropped his head against the back of the couch again as he lowered it. He still refused to answer until Stan answered him. So the silence stretched on a moment. 

“There’s a bandage on yer hand, genius.” Stan said eventually. “Plus you’re out here with me instead of in there huntin for the weird jelly beans. So spill.” 

Ford shook his head and glanced at his hand. He’d nearly forgotten. “Right.” he said dryly before taking another gulp of his beer. He allowed an extra beat to swallow, then said “The creature we encountered was a scegrit. Typically, they’re highly venomous.” 

“What?!” Stan demanded suddenly, setting his Cola aside. “Ford we should - “ 

Ford cut him off with a raised hand. “Stanley, I’m not ill.” he interrupted. “When I say highly venomous I mean I’d expect to already be feeling the effects, if not already long dead.” Stan sucked in a breath and huffed it back out and Ford nodded. “I know. I should have been more careful, but all’s well. I’ll be running some blood tests this evening to determine if I have a natural immunity or if the variety of scegrit in Gravity Falls is just venomless.” 

Stan relaxed. “Alright.” he gave, then asked “So why are ya out here?” before sipping at his cola. Ford stared down at his can of beer, then took another drink from it, then continued staring at it. Eventually Stan grumbled “Can’s not gonna answer me, Sixer. Talk.” 

Still defensive, Ford turned it around the best he could. “You’re awfully eager to have me sharing my feelings suddenly.” 

“You bein stingy with ‘em tells me you’ve got somethin ta hide.” Stan fired back. Ford looked away. “Ford. C’mon. What really happened?” 

Ford cleared his throat. Better Stan hear it from him than Mabel. Not that she noticed the particularly incriminating part, but Stan was more clever than Ford liked to give him credit for. He could put it together. “The scegrit was on a ledge on the side of a large hole. It wasn’t quite a meter deep and maybe half that wide at the opening. Considerably narrower farther down. It was hidden by some shrubbery and Mabel fell in.” Ford could hear the way Stan’s breath caught. He nodded and took another long drink from his beer. “I pulled her out, naturally. She was uninjured and we went on our way.” 

“Thing got you though.” Stan gestured to the bandage on Ford’s hand. 

“It did.” Ford agreed.

“Almost got Mabel.” 

“Yes.” 

Stan drained his can of cola. Then “It almost got Mabel but it got you instead.” 

“Yes.” Ford repeated. 

Stan looked at him. Ford still couldn’t meet his gaze, and Stan noticed. “Then what the heck do you look so guilty about?” So then, it was time. 

“I hesitated.” 

Silence. A long moment. Eventually Ford looked at Stan again, not sure what he expected to see. Judgement? Anger? Understanding, if he was unfathomably lucky. He wasn’t sure why the confusion he actually saw was so surprising. “Uh-huh.” Stan said slowly. 

It was all too easy to let the anger that had been welling up at himself change its aim to his brother, and Ford was nearly shouting when he admitted “Mabel was in danger and I hesitated, Stanley!” 

“Uh…” Stan said, still clearly confused. “That’s called survival instinct. Good ta know you still have it.” 

Ford looked away. Perhaps his confusion was a mercy. It was better than the judgement he was expecting. Or was it? The endless possibility that the anger was yet to come once Stanley understood? Perhaps he never would. Or perhaps it would connect at some inconvenient moment. Better to explain. How could he explain? He drained the rest of his beer and set the can on the porch. Then he lifted his foot to stomp it flat. The crunch was satisfying. Cathartic. Exactly what he wished he’d done to the scegrit. He leaned back on the couch again and offered “I’ve never hesitated in protecting a loved one before.” 

Stan didn’t respond for a moment, and Ford looked at him. But Stan’s eyes were straight ahead. He shrugged after a beat and answered “I have.” Ford blinked at him, and Stan turned to meet his gaze. “Ford the thing bit you. If it’s what you thought it was, you _just_ told me you’d be dead. You knew that could happen. I think that’s worth a second of your time.” 

“A second that it might have bitten Mabel instead?” Ford demanded. He saw the realization dawn in Stan’s eyes. Followed by pain. “I’ve put myself on the line before, Stanley.” Ford was surprised how even his voice was. “For you. For Dipper. For -” faces flashed across Ford’s memory and he swallowed hard and tried to push them away. “For others. I’ve never hesitated. So why now?” 

“Dunno.” Stan answered, tone and expression going unreadable. “Maybe ya secretly hate her. Want her outta the way so you can spend more time with Dipper.” 

Ford could only look at Stan in horror. “No…” he gasped, and all the air in his lungs came out with the protest. The very thought nauseated him, a visceral rejection of the premise. He struggled to pull in another breath and “How can you say that? I love Mabel.” 

Stan cracked a smile. “See how dumb you sound?” he answered, and all at once Ford could breathe again. 

“You’re an execrable jerk.” he said simply. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I’m sure this...I’m sure I’ll stop ‘being so dumb’ soon. Thank you for the beer, Stanley.” he looked away, then pulled himself to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to ruin my supper.” and he started inside. 

That night, teeth aching from a lack of restraint but otherwise pleasantly full from the supper the candy had not quite managed to ruin, Ford ran the blood tests. A second bandage on the same arm where he’d drawn the sample and then another hour peering through a microscope. Discovering the natural anti-venom made him feel like something very heavy had sat on his chest. 

Mabel could have died after all. 

-

“Mabel?” Ford called as he climbed the last of the steps to the attic and knocked on the door of the twins bedroom. “Mabel I closed the video you were showing me and now I can’t find it.” 

Mabel opened the door and took the so-called “smart” phone from Fords hand. He’d handled more advanced technology on a near-daily basis on his travels. To his momentary horror, Mabel giggled at him. “You didn’t close it, Grunkle Ford. You went back to the home screen. The window’s still open, see?” She showed him the phone again, and there it was. The tutorial on french braids he’d watched three times already and still didn’t understand. It was the worst of all things Ford was hopeless with, modern technology and hair. 

He took the phone and pointed at it with his other hand. “I will learn this. In time for the party. I promised you french braids and you’ll have them.” 

Mabel giggled again. “Grunkle Ford, it’s not a big deal! Normal braids’ll be fine! Or! Watch.” She ran her hands down the underside of her hair so it flowed up and then dropped against her shoulders. “Ta-da. Down is good too! Just. Don’t break my cell phone trying to figure it out.” 

Ford sighed heavily and handed the phone back to her. “I normally pick up new skills significantly faster than this.” he complained. 

Mabel smiled at him. “Wanna practice what you’ve learned?” 

“That could be helpful, yes.” Mabel wandered back into the room and Ford followed, glancing around. “Where’s your brother?” 

“Off with Wendy and her friends.” Mabel answered, sitting on the edge of her bed, in the middle. Ford sat beside her, closer to the door. Mabel gestured toward her hair and Ford began his work, separating it down the middle and working with the half closer to him. They sat in silence for a minute as Ford focused on her hair before Mabel asked “Grunkle Ford? Why did you want to french braid my hair?” 

Ford paused. “Did you not want french braids for the party this year?” 

“I mean I said I did…” Ford stopped working with her hair and looked at her curiously. “But it was kinda a...you know. Passing fancy. You took it way serious. What’s up?” He didn’t answer for a moment as he thought back to that hike, nearly a week ago now. As if summoned by his own thought, her next words were “You’ve been acting kinda weird ever since you got bit by that scorpion-thing.” 

In that moment Ford decided that there was no harm in a half-truth to preserve the relationship. He took a long breath and said “I did some tests, like I said.” Mabel looked at him, both curious and cautious. “I have antibodies against scegrit venom.” 

The curiosity melted into confusion. “That’s...a good thing though, right?” 

“Not at all.” Ford answered. “Mabel, that means you were in real danger for a moment.” 

“Oh.” she paused, then “Psssh. Like real danger doesn’t happen every day! It’s not a big deal, Grunkle Ford. This is Gravity Falls, remember?” she reached up and playfully rapped on the top of his head with her knuckle. “Weird things happen here all the time. I’m use to it. And I’m fine. You don’t have to be extra nice to me ‘cause I fell in a hole with a weird alien spidcorpien.” 

Ford felt a hint of a laugh bubble through him at her amalgamation word. It manifested as a snort. “I can’t be extra nice because I realized I could have lost you and I was afraid?” he asked. 

“It was a week ago, Grunkle Ford! I’ve probably almost died three times since then without even noticing!” It was, he knew, an exaggeration. Or at least he sincerely hoped. “The point is I’m _fine_. There’s nothing to be scared of anymore.” 

Ford just looked at her a moment, then replied “If you don’t want me to french braid your hair you can just say so.” 

Mabel rolled her eyes and hugged him. He put an arm around her as well as she explained “I just don’t want you to feel bad. You’re acting like...like you think you did something wrong and you didn’t.” 

“How am I acting like I did something wrong?” 

Mabel pulled back and looked at him. The girl had too much of Stanley in her, Ford decided. He’d had enough of that look to last a lifetime. Somehow it was even more effective from her. “There’s still glitter in your sweater, Grunkle Ford.” 

“I - I appreciate glitter!” he protested. The words sounded exactly like the blatant lie they were and Mabel burst into giggles. He sighed and looked down. The truth it was then. “I suppose I have been feeling a little...like I wasn’t fast enough. I ought to have…” he stopped, unsure how to proceed from there. 

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Mabel asked. “You were plenty fast enough! And yeah, it’d have been nice if you were fast enough to not get bit but…” 

“I hesitated.” he blurted out for the second time, looking at her as he did so. Mabel blinked at him. “I hesitated, Mabel. I recognized the danger you were in and I hesitated to take the risk necessary to pull you out. I’m sorry.” There it was. Mabel looked suddenly hurt and the guilt Ford was experiencing doubled. “I’m sorry.” he said again. “It’s not - I don’t believe it means I love you any less...I just…” 

Ford had decades of experience anticipating attacks. Reading even the subtlest motion to telegraph a strike. The pillow he caught suddenly to the side of the head came as a complete surprise. Mabel’s voice was raised when she demanded “You’re _**MAD**_ at yourself for not RISKING YOUR LIFE for me FASTER?” The pillow impact hadn’t done much besides snap his head to the side, so he only had to turn his head to look at her in confusion. He barely caught a glimpse of her before she’d attached herself around his middle and buried her face in his chest. “I’m glad you have the antibodies, Grunkle Ford.” she mumbled into his sweater. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “You can’t let this kinda thing get to you though. It’s okay to be a little bit selfish sometimes. Especially for just a second.” she took a deep breath, then “Besides. I’m the one who fell in the hole.” Ford looked at her, alarmed at the direction she seemed to be going, so she shook her head hard. “No, nope. It’s okay. Everything’s. Okay. You’re okay. And you need to stop feeling bad, alright?” 

“You’re not upset?” Ford pressed. 

“I’m a little upset!” Mabel’s voice was raised again and Ford winced. 

“I’m sor-” 

“Not because you hesitated or whatever.” Mabel interrupted. “Because you think you shouldn’t have. Grunkle Ford, I *knew* you would save me. I saw how scared you looked and I knew it was bad. I didn’t know how bad but I knew it would be okay. But if you thought you were gonna die saving me I don’t want you to...I don’t want you to do that ever! Never mind feel bad about thinking about not doing it!” 

“Mabel…” he could hear the pain in his own voice. 

“No!” she shouted again. “You’re being dumb again, Grunkle Ford. Except this time you’re trying to be dumb with me. Well it’s not gonna work. I love you and you’re stuck with that. So no being mad at yourself for wanting to _Not. Die._. Okay?” 

Ford hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.” he agreed. 

“Good.” she sighed then, and said “Now. I was gonna let you off the hook for french-braiding. But you scared me for a second there, so I changed my mind. Get practicing, buddy. Party’s tomorrow.” 

Ford could only smile and obey. 


End file.
